John Harris, a fighter pilot in World War II, has volunteered more than 1,000 hours at the USS Midway Museum. Eduardo Contreras • U-T

San Diego native John Harris said he was one of two fighter pilots in his squadron during World War II who didn’t have a bullet hole in his airplane after flying 49 missions.

On the 50th mission, the other guy got shot down.

Incredibly, Harris made it through the war and 53 missions without getting hit once. Now 88, he said he’s never met or heard of anyone with such a fortuitous track record.

Harris reflects on his time in World War II modestly, but his accomplishments while flying with the 2nd Fighter Squadron Commando unit speak for themselves. Aside from having never been hit, Harris was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross and received a unit citation for his part in the March 15, 1945, Don Muang Raid, a historic mission in which Allied fighters took out 43 Japanese planes. Harris’ name is listed in a coffee-table book for the part he played in the attack.

But despite his impressive war exploits, the retired optometrist and longtime retail employee for Fed Mart is shy about discussing his past.

“He’s typical of many of the World War II people you read about who just don’t talk about their experiences,” said retired federal Judge Larry Irving, 77, who said he has known Harris for 20 years. “I was just humbled by him. He’s just such a quiet guy. He’s a legitimate hero, and if I hadn’t pried it out of him, I would have never known. It just really blew me away.”

Today, Harris volunteers as a docent at the USS Midway Museum, where he has donated more than 1,000 hours, and he is an avid golfer who regularly shoots below his age. He has been married to his wife, Lois, for 65 years, and has three sons, six grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.

His friends describe him as an ethical, honest and humble man, but in the early days of the war, Harris described himself as a “fireball” who thought he was “king of the hill.”

Harris knew he wanted to be a fighter pilot right from the start, but it took a little skulduggery to get him into the Army, he said. Harris didn’t want to wait until his 18th birthday to enlist, so his mother, Jeanne, agreed to sign an affidavit claiming he was born two months earlier. That enabled Harris to join the Army in April 1942, at age 17.

“There was such a war hysteria, and I wanted to fly so bad,” Harris said. “People were enlisting like crazy, and the longer you waited, the less chance you had. Many of my friends who waited never got into the pilot program.”

And being a pilot wasn’t enough for Harris. He wanted to be a fighter pilot. As he described it, it was the most sought-after assignment.

“At that particular time, everybody wanted to be a fighter pilot,” Harris said. “There was a romance about it. You saw the fighter planes, and they maneuvered and dived. The bombardiers just went straight and level. There was no romance to it. Flying straight and level is like riding a bus. There’s no kick to it. It’s like having a job.”